Sammy's Twelfth Birthday
by winchester-magic
Summary: It's the same every year: Dean tries his hardest to make Sammy feel normal on his birthday. With an unexpected return of their father, John takes the boys out for a fun night in the Impala.


Sam had been awake for almost an hour now, but he continued to lie in bed, pretending to be asleep, while listening to Dean creep around the room. Just like last year, Sam decided to wait until it became clear that Dean was done preparing, to wake up. Sam doubted that Dean believed he was still asleep, what with the years of waking up at a moment's notice to pack and run in case their father came home with a monster on his tail, but it made both of them feel better to imagine.

Dean's pattering footsteps had slowed down, and Sam could almost hear him sigh, hands on his hips surveying the dingy motel room and his handiwork. Sam waited, keeping his breathing even and still as he could.

All of a sudden a bright light flashed in front of his eyelids and Dean jumped on Sam's bed hollering "WAKE UP, SAMMY. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Dean persistently jumped up and down yelling, while Sam stretched and opened his eyes.

The crappy motel room was strewn with streamers and a two dollar HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner was hung across the wall above the kitchenette. A smile spread across Sam's face as he looked at Dean, who's moved from his bed across the room and immediately blasted the radio, as Sam's favourite country musician played. Sam burst out laughing at the look of obvious pain on Dean's face as the singer bellowed about lost love in a southern accent. Sam launched himself across the room and hugged Dean, and turned the radio down. Dean embraced Sam, ruffling his hair, and said, "Happy birthday, Sammy. Twelve is a big number."

"Thanks, Dean." Sam smiled brightly up at him. Dean tried so hard every year, even though they were in crappy motel rooms and there wasn't much they could do on his birthday.

"Come on, birthday boy!" Dean nudged Sam into the kitchenette. "Big Birthday Breakfast!"

On the table was laid out the biggest breakfast they'd seen since the Darla's Big Breakfast, at the diner in Ohio. Sunny side up eggs (the way Sam liked them), toast, bacon, baked beans, and grilled tomato with cheese on top, with a big glass of orange juice, was waiting on the table.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed. "This looks awesome! Did you make this?"

Dean attempted to shrug it off, "The kitchenette is decent this time. Anyway, come on and eat big boy. Twelve years old, you're not getting any younger!"

Sam and Dean spent the day watching TV and then went to the local park and played catch with a baseball and a couple mitts Dean had stolen from someone's backyard the night before, despite John's express orders not to leave the motel room.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked as Dean locked the room, dropping the key into his leather jacket pocket.

"Meh, Dad will never know." Dean ruffled Sam's hair affectionately. "Come on, the park is just down this way."

Two hours later it was getting dark and they were walking back to the motel room laughing when all of a sudden, Dean's smile dropped. Sam swung his gaze around and saw the sleek black Impala sitting in the parking spot outside the motel room. "Shit."

Dean gently hit the back of Sam's head. "Watch your language, Sammy."

"I'm twelve, I'm allowed to swear." Sam retorted.

Dean anxiously chuckled, "Getting a little too smart for your age, that's what you are." He went round and felt the hood of the car. It was barely any heat in it. He'd been here a while.

They stopped in front of the motel room and Dean sighed. He pulled out the motel key and clicked it into place and swung the door open. John Winchester sat at the table drinking a beer, eyeing the streamers and cluttered dishes from their breakfast in the sink. He turned to look at his sons as they came through the doors. He handed both of them a glass of water.

Dean smirked at John and held his glass up in a toasting fashion. "Cheers." He said. He swallowed a gulp of the holy water and turned to look at Sam, surprised to see the seething anger directed at their father.

Sam swallowed the water and set the glass on the table, insulted by its presence. "Nice to see you here, John. Didn't expect you for a while." Sam walked to his bed and threw his stuff on it, so he didn't see the twist of John's mouth, as Sam referred to him by his first name.

"I remembered your birthday." John nodded. "Happy birthday Sam."

Sam turned and sat on the bed, away from the table. "Thanks."

"I thought I'd give you a bit of a present." John said, and then shot a look at dean, almost as if to say, I bet you couldn't get him a present.

Sam raised his brows. "Really?"

"Come on, I'll show you." John stood and led the way to the Impala. He gestured and the boys got in the car and John in the driver's seat. He took them out of town to an abandoned warehouse and he parked in the massive parking lot.

John and the boys got out of the car and looked around.

Sam frowned and looked at John, "Thanks John, but a ghost isn't really what I had in mind for a birthday present. I'd rather not today."

John cracked a smile for the first time in a while. "I'm not giving you a ghost. I'm gonna teach you how to drive."

Sam's eyes lit up, and Dean whirled around to glare at John.

"Drive?" Dean said.

John turned to look at Dean, his voice instantly hardening. "Yes, Dean. Drive. Are you questioning me?"

Dean just clenched his jaw and stepped back.

John turned to Sam and gave him a look that said, 'well come on.'

Sam ran around to the driver's side and swung in, with John moving into the passengers. Dean stayed out of the car and watched as John instructed Sam on seating positions, and gears. He couldn't help but chuckle as five minutes later, in trying to take off, Sam stalled the car. Twenty minutes later, Sam was crawling through the parking lot on first gear.

Another twenty minutes after that, darkness had begun to fall and John had turned the lights on in the Impala, and Sam was now confident going up to 60 miles an hour. Naturally, John felt the next step was to teach his twelve year old son how to do burnouts.

Finally after an hour of attempting to teach Sam, Dean wrenched the driver door open and said, "Hustle over, Sam, and watch the master at work." Dean slid in and quickly and efficiently moved the pedals and wheel to his height.

Dean licked his lips and smiled, as he slid the car into gear. He glanced at Sammy, wedged between himself and John in the front seat and said, "Hold on."

The car threw itself forward and swung around an imaginary line, kicking its back end out and understeering, the tyres screeching in pain and joy simultaneously. Dean threw the car up a gear and went flat out, and at the very last moment before he hit a chain wall, Dean dropped a few gears and locked the wheel, he then pulled the handbrake up slightly, holding on to the accelerator and the locked wheel.

Sam watched in awe as the car turned itself in circles and smoke flew out of the back wheels, soon enveloping them, but Dean didn't stop. He turned to look at Sammy, a slightly mad glint in his eye and winked.

He released the car from the handbrake, eased off the accelerator and let the wheel go, slowly rolling out of the cloud of smoke. Sam started jumping up and down in his seat, "Dean that was awesome! You have to teach me how to do that!"

Dean glanced at John, who paused before giving a slight nod. Dean looked back at Sammy and grinned. "Alright then. Into the driver's seat you go, Sammy."

They were there until dawn the next morning, and when they left there was a mysteriously shaped genitalia burnt into the car park from tyres.

A/N: I'm no car expert, and I've never done a burnout, so any technical errors, I'd be happy to fix.


End file.
